


nightmare

by 5674l



Series: in the mud or moonlight, I know you [4]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Anyways, Developing Relationship, Dissociation, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Smut, Humor, M/M, Subdrop, also in a sense grace/tommy but idk where this is going so that may not happen, but tommy begs to be overanalysed by everyone around him including himself, guys no unnecessary grace slander when she appears, he contemplates looking outside of himself at himself so depersonalisation, i hate that spelling there should be another u, is she one dimensional in the show? yeah but fuck sk innit, none of this passes the bechdel, of sorts, poor attempts at, t/a only really comes in chapter 6 so wait for that, well.. nothing that anyone would admit to in this because they're all dumbasses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29414142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5674l/pseuds/5674l
Summary: “But he’d already put himself in someone else’s hands, he knew that, she could see it, and he didn’t know if he could hold someone now after being held. He couldn’t hold her, not in the way she wanted him to and not in the way he wished he could.”(The morning after "obligations" and onwards.)
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Series: in the mud or moonlight, I know you [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137518
Comments: 33
Kudos: 62





	1. am I a ghost or am I a boy because I don't feel like a man

Everything felt hazy, but not in the way where you wake up with your head pounding after a night badly spent. His mind felt warm instead of hammering against his skull, taking a moment to become alert and to retrieve its memories. 

Then it did, piece by piece, but it still didn’t have time to rationalise everything, to fit all the memories into the context of Tommy’s wider life. All he remembered was that he’d been vulnerable and in the peace of the sunlight coming through a gap in the curtains, that felt right.

And he hadn’t heard the shovels.

That was odd, he knew that, and tried to find a moment in his life where that had been the case, after the war, a moment where everything had quieted. Just the once. With Grace.

In remembering her, he brought an onslaught of emotion onto himself.

This wasn’t right, never mind what his head wanted now. And his heart, whispered a voice that sounded too like himself from the past. It was a useless voice, it gave him nothing and it operated in a time long gone now, he would not blur the lines with what he is and what he was. 

Alfie had taken him apart and Tommy didn’t know if he would wake up to put him back together again, but that wasn’t for Alfie to do, in the same way it wasn’t for him to have broken him down in the first place.

His body was exhausted, so fucking weak, in every sense of the word, and it was Alfie’s fucking fault so Tommy turned to him, wincing as he went, pushing himself out of Alfie’s arms in the process. That’s right, he reminded himself, he’d allowed this to happen, for Alfie to press into him and then around him. He looked at Alfie now, he was different asleep. Features softened.

Tommy hated him, for his strength, for his arrogance, but they weren’t here now, they’d abandoned the sleeping man who, for all the scars etched inside of him, didn’t show any visible ones on his face, and didn’t have any marks to make his reprehensible qualities visible. 

Tommy ignored that the hatred he felt for Alfie was only something he could indulge in in the silence and wondered, if he were a better man, if he could acknowledge that it isn’t what he truly felt. However, the reality wasn’t what he was supposed to feel.

He almost had everything that he was supposed to want. Grace. The baby. The thought of them didn’t give him peace, but he knew in having them he would get respect. It would make him happy. It would have to make him happy.

-

Alfie was still asleep, but Tommy didn’t know how long that would last with a man so aware of his surroundings, with a man who claimed he could see the future. Would he wake up because he knew that Tommy would be leaving? 

Fuck, he needed to stop putting so much faith in the bullshit Alfie spouted as a joke.

Tommy lifted himself slowly of the bed, in habit, not used to being in a rush, despite the panic now having elevated from a dull ache to an all consuming sensation. He quickly realised that it wasn’t just his habit that held him back, shooting pains ran up him when he moved any part of his back, his legs, it all hurt. 

He still felt something inside of him and it was Alfie’s fucking come, the thought filling him with shame, and he could feel the colour rising in his cheeks. As though he were a whore. It dripped down his leg.

Something warm was on his face and fucking hell it was tears. No no no, what the fuck was this and again there was the humiliating desire to wake Alfie up, to crawl back in, but he couldn’t fucking do that, because this would have to be enough. This could never happen again and he needed to get the fuck out. 

There was no time for anything, Tommy wanted to wash everything away, maybe shame was something he could get rid of with water, seeing as nothing else worked. What a fanciful fucking thought.

Alfie could wake up at any moment and Tommy knew he was a talkative man, couldn’t shut up if his life so fucking depended on it, and he would want to talk about this.

He needed to pull himself together, and dreaded what would happen if he couldn’t.

His clothes, where the fuck were they? 

Tommy limped towards the bathroom and found that with a far too intense effort he could put everything on again, barring his shirt, lost to the world, tied to some tree somewhere.

He wrapped the coat around himself, covering up the marks and wondered what would happen if someone saw them. They’d think it was from some woman, someone from one of the clubs maybe, he’d had a drunken, drug-fuelled night like Arthur, except he had no substance to blame.

He creeped down the stairs, for once grateful for the silence he had to cultivate when he was younger, and called the one person he could trust, hoping she’d be home. Ada.

-

“Hello?” She sounded tired.

“Hello Ada.”

“Tommy?”

“Ada I’m coming to your house-”

“Tommy where the hell have you been? We missed you whilst celebrating I-”

“I’ll tell you when I get there but I need to hurry. Send a car ‘round.”

She paused, clearly wondering what the fuck was going on, but Tommy sounded like something was urgent. 

“To where?”

-

The car’s silence was. It simply was. Not overwhelming, not underwhelming, just Tommy Shelby, with his bruises covered and his mind whirring and an individual not tied to him nor in his employment, someone he didn’t have to worry about, or have worry about him, or potentially be someone who would kill him (though you never knew with the last one). 

Tommy’s eyes were glazed over, and he wondered, if he were to step out of his body, and the urge was tempting, to rip it all away and see if he’d survive renewed, if he were to not be Tommy Shelby but to observe Tommy Shelby, would he see himself as cold? Unwavering? Calm?

Because that is what he knew others thought of him, and whether they damned him for it or damned the people he’d associated with, he is the one who made them shudder. Like a ghost.

_Damn them for what they did to you in France._

He didn’t know what he was anymore. 

He knew his exterior may be perceived just the same, but he had laid himself bare and now he felt open. Wondered if there were tear tracks the driver could see. Contemplated a temporary conversion to the brutality people expected of him, to cut open into a man and wonder if his guts torn out of him would feel as invasive to him as the entire fucking situation made Tommy feel towards himself.

“Mr Shelby, we’re here.”


	2. how am I supposed to help you when you have only ever helped me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ada wonders what the fuck is going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate the fact we don't get to hear from Ada enough (or really, any female character) I'm not sure what her voice is supposed to be like in her head but here it is.

Ada opened her door and part of her was still convinced this was Tommy just being a dick, because God knows he was, and then he stumbled in, in silence, looking somehow healthier and more out of it than she had ever seen him. She was glad she’d sent James away.

“Tommy?”

He offered no explanation and she desperately wanted one, because it’s what she was owed, it was far too early for this shit. She knew that whatever had happened was immense because Tommy was swaying and she hadn’t smelled any alcohol on him.

He was scaring her.

“Tommy, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

He looked at her then, or rather in her general direction, but his eyes shot straight through her, off in the distance, until he turned back around and soundlessly went upstairs. It was one of his worst qualities, not offering explanations. It ruined a lot of the good he did, when he didn’t speak. 

Usually, he was silent about moves he’d taken for the good of the family, and in his silence, no one could thank him. When he achieved his goals, they were left to reap the rewards in happiness and Tommy went off again, silently, wordlessly, to find another thing to worry about. 

She had been in Birmingham yesterday, watching everyone return from the derby, John and Arthur had been pissed out of their minds and all the men had been gathered around in celebration, yelling at the top of their lungs. 

Lizzie had been smiling at the sight until Ada asked where Tommy was. Her expression was unreadable.

She’d said it absently, no real concern but Lizzie’s face had made her think otherwise.

“He does what he wants, Ada. I don’t think anyone would know.”

It didn’t seem like she knew anything, but there was something off putting about the statement.

“Yes well, that’s Tommy, always in his own head and-”

“Thinking about himself. Only himself.”

Ada had gone slightly slack at that, what the fuck had happened? Lizzie sounded sad for all her voice was so quiet, and Ada didn’t know whether she was going to press her for answers or not but she didn’t have the time to decide because Lizzie had seen Jeremiah and gone to him silently.

The Blinders and their fucking silence, it infected everyone then, not just family. Well, with the beautiful exception of John and his kids.

Ada smiled softly remembering them, but then came to in her own house, wondering why Tommy couldn’t bloody confide in her. They had been so close, before the war, but he’d slipped from her when he came back in a way she didn’t understand because her and Freddie had managed to be close. Then again, Freddie, when he lead and incited change, he’d dealt with men at his standing, just wanting change, he didn’t really have people depending on him, in the way Tommy did, in the way Tommy does. He didn’t keep a lot secret, her Freddie. Tommy was as closed off as humanly possible. Maybe it was his way of protecting them all.

In the late afternoon the day before, Grace had turned up, looking as out of place in Birmingham as she could’ve been, and she’d stuck out like a sore thumb when she’d first arrived. Getting over her initial shock had Ada feeling sorry for her, but if someone saw her she didn’t know how they would react. 

Grace had made Tommy trust her. Really, truly, trust her. Maybe, just maybe, if she hadn’t betrayed him, Tommy would have been open with all of them.

But she’d been doing business, like Tommy does business, she couldn’t help her feelings. Ada wanted to get angry at her and to resent her but she was tired, for all she hadn’t even attended to watch the horses race, and Polly was around with a blood stain that Ada didn’t want to ask about and if she saw Grace again she could shoot her.

She’d taken her to Tommy’s office then. Running errands for him even when she’d left all this behind her.

“Have you heard from him? Tommy?” She sounded soft, and Ada pitied her love for Tommy. Wondered if it would work. If it would have worked if she stayed.

“No, but I’m sure he’ll turn up. It is Tommy.” Ada smiled at her in reassurance but Grace looked on edge.

“Are you alright?” 

“Oh I’m fine, thank you for asking.” She’d given a cursory smile and it looked ready to shatter.

“Grace why have you turned up? Out of nowhere, I mean.”

“Did he not tell you?” No. Nothing since the war, nothing of substance.

“No, like I said, I haven’t seen him.”

“I mean before. I, I have seen him before since I came to England.”

Ada was vaguely disinterested but Grace was scared, she could tell, in the way she had been when Freddie was absent, not that the two relationships were the same. Grace would have to get used to this type of worry.

“We met at a house, I hadn’t expected it of him, but a London townhouse-”

“That’d be my house.” 

“Right. Sorry.”

Ada would have laughed at her but it felt mean to, so unwilling to offend. Maybe she didn’t want to alienate the family further.

“Why are you looking for him?”

She hesitated then.

“Please, don’t tell him I told you.”

“You’ve said nothing yet.”

“I’m pregnant. It’s Tommy’s.” She opened her mouth then, as though was going to say more but then shut up completely, and silence hung over them.

“How did he take the news?”

“I don’t even know if he registered it, truth be told. Your brother, he is kind sometimes and cold in others. Do you think he’d be good with his own baby?”

Grace’s expression was absent. If she was a child, she might be biting her nails.

“He would definitely try.”

“But would he be good?”

“He is a kind man, beneath it all. He would do anything for family. He would try, Grace, you have to be okay with that.”

She’d left Grace there to return to London, trusting she’d find her own way and wondered if now was a good time to call her over. No, she didn’t know where she was. She also didn’t know what state Tommy was in. She hated the not knowing.

-

“Tommy?”

SIlence.

“Tommy, I’m sick and tired of having to call your name like this, if you don’t say something I’ll.. I’ll tell Polly.”

It sounded so childish but it had worked before, Tommy respected Polly where he didn’t his own brothers, and before the war, Polly was the safest bet to call when trying to scare Tommy into conceding. Anyone else would have either been too out of it to have done anything or scared him into.. hiding. 

She needed to stop thinking of that. “Tommy I’m coming in.”

He was in the middle of the tub, his knees drawn up to himself, eyes off into the distance. It was full, so he wasn’t completely out of it. There was enough in him to at least draw a bath for himself.

Ada wondered why this looked so fucking familiar and then remembered Polly, who had looked completely wrecked, telling her Michael would be let out in the morning. 

She’d felt so fucking sorry for Polly but she hadn’t been all that surprised, really. Polly was strong but she shared her hardships with people, didn’t hide them away. 

Tommy, she hadn’t seen Tommy vulnerable like this. 

Something was different, between the two, Polly had looked exhausted, and Tommy, for all his silence, looked well rested somehow. How the did that work?

She moved closer and got a stool from on side to sit next to him and noticed that he had tears coming down his face, a steady stream.

“Ada. I’ve made a mistake.”

He lifted his head to look at her and she saw the marks on his neck but Tommy looked so open and she didn’t want to ask.

“It’s alright Tommy. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

It was true, there was no blood on him, just a cut at his temple, no alcohol. Whatever the mistake, it couldn’t have been bad.

He still looked up at her though, like he was expecting an answer she didn’t have so she just moved closer and let him rest his head on her lap, like he was Karl after falling down.

“I almost died, yesterday, and I only-” He cut himself off and Ada stayed silent because she’d gotten nothing from Tommy in a long time and she wasn’t going to scare him off.

“I only lived because someone wanted to spare me. I wanted to live, for Grace.”

That hurt Ada slightly, that he would want to live for someone not himself or his family.

“But I made a mistake. I did something I wasn’t supposed to do. I, I slept with someone.”

That’s what this was?

“Tommy, I know that you’ve been with May these past few months and-”

“It wasn’t May.”

“Well whoever it was! Tommy, you and Grace haven’t agreed anything to each other yet. And she has a husband. She’ll forgive you but it isn’t like you cheated so you won’t lose her.”

Somehow, Tommy didn’t seem happy with that.

“So I’ll get to have her and, and the baby?”

He hadn’t mentioned the baby to her before and she wondered if he knew that.

“Yeah, of course you will.”

Ada felt a little like she was explaining something to a child but she was missing something and that made her feel off balance.

“Would you like me to call her?”

“No. No I’ll uh, I’ll do it myself. Soon. You can go now, Ada, it’s alright.”

She felt a flare of annoyance at that, at Tommy giving orders, and ignored the relief she felt in knowing that at least it meant he wasn’t completely gone. He was still Tommy, just, just an upset one.

There was more to this, she knew it, she just didn’t know how to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Alfie yet but he will be back soon!


	3. blue eyes but they're not fuck me eyes which is a disappointment actually

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I got his voice perfect? No. But did I enjoy writing it? Yes.

Alfie woke up, right, and immediately the day went to shit, because he feel asleep weighted, someone was in his arms and now that hazard was gone. Tommy Shelby. He seemed like the type of man who wouldn’t stay still, something which he enjoyed when it meant him writhing in his arms but not so much when he fucking disappeared. 

He knew, with a frightening amount of clarity, that Tommy despised showing he was vulnerable. He’d only known him a few months now but these were the type of things you got from sporadic meetings, right? Yeah. And Alfie was an observant man, yeah, always paid attention, scrutinising the men before him with the accuracy of say, a fucking.. a fucking eagle, or something, and therefore he did know every single one of the cunts he had to deal with very fucking well. Same principles with Tommy, innit?

Granted, he hadn’t really been doing business but that was neither here nor fucking there. Point is, Tommy hated vulnerability and Alfie, contrary to what you may think, was also a cunt, just an intelligent one so, naturally, he got Tommy to be vulnerable. 

But God, in his divine retribution, gave him a temptation to give into and then took the temptation away. 

Now Alfie was awake and he had to go to his fucking distillery, because all his fucking employees, despite being God’s people, right, were not blessed with intelligence, and they had no one to blame but themselves. And Alfie had to tell them what to do now, didn’t he? They’d blow his business to pieces otherwise.

\- 

The day actually did go like clockwork but Alfie wasn’t really fond of clockwork because clocks, right, they are simply man made innit and if all of them changed no one would have a fucking clue because at the end of the day-

“Alfie, this shipment just came in and-”

“What do I look like? Your fucking mother? If a shipment comes in where do you put it, hm? Is it too hard to figure out because if so, mate, you might have chosen the wrong fucking profession. Do you need me to look over you? Are you a fucking child?”

“No, sir.”

“Then go do your job, right, and fuck off.”

Huh. Didn’t really feel like shouting that day but he did it anyways. Wondered why.

At the end of the day, right, the end of the day is simply whenever you decide, innit? That is the beauty of more stupid people, they look at their fucking clocks, they let them tell them when to eat, sleep, shit, maybe even fucking die, but Alfie, right, he fucking knew this was all bullshit and he gets to fucking decide. Free will, innit?

He’d checked in, that’s his job done, if they blew his business to bits well that’s just life, and if they actually did, well. It’d be the end of theirs.

And he was leaving, peacefully, calmly, when he was interrupted.

“So what did Mr Shelby want? Uh, yesterday?”

Even if he hadn’t heard the pitch of the voice, Alfie knew it’d be Ollie. It’s always Ollie. If Alfie held a contest, in this here bakery, with the floors covered in rum, as it was, for who could be the most stupid, Ollie would win. Everyone would stand far away from him, naturally, afraid of his superiority and his prize would be a lit match to drop to the floor. Of his free will and all.

“Quite funny that, yeah, he asked me to gallop his horse around the edge of London actually, so the poor creature would not have to endure life knowing it had only ever seen the confines of Birmingham. Yeah.”

Ollie had the fucking nerve to sigh.

“I only ask because the two of you need to actually sign the new drafted contract, the one that has the updated percentages.”

“The updated percentages?”

He had forgotten that particular insult. Maybe the religious experience yesterday, and today, would make up for it. Didn’t mean he’d be civil signing it.

“Yeah. Look, are you clocking out then?”

“Yeah, mate. Why, did it look like something else?”

Ollie looked at him with a truly infuriating expression then. Looked like fucking concern.

“Is there something you wanted to say?”

“No! No, I was just uh. Well I was expecting a longer um. A longer response, is all.”

Right, Alfie wanted to leave and Ollie was now a barrier so he considered hitting him with his cane, though he’d never hit an employee (well), or, at the very least, not for something minor (even though everything was getting on his nerves today and this seemed like a fucking major, as far as he was concerned), and he had to wonder if he would have actually done it because Ollie, in his pragmatism, had scuttled away. In the privacy of his own head, Alfie acknowledged that knowing what was good for him was truly Ollie’s best trait.

-

The bakery was full of noise in the foreground, so Alfie could barely think, which is a shame because thinking was his strong suit and as was saying stuff immediately. He was blessed even if he was a sinner. Juxtaposition. Wonderful. Or was there a different term? Never mind, all the same. 

In a car, the noise was background and so he had all the time to think, calmly, peacefully, which was fantastic because now he could think about how in this car, yesterday, he had. Well.

He hadn’t called his driver that morning, couldn’t tell you why, it just felt like a nice day to drive himself, innit?

Alfie’s street had a very limited number of people, all on the verge of death or lonely enough that they got no visitors, and Alfie knew every single one of them, didn’t he, because otherwise they could try and, I don’t know. Kill him.

But the good news was, he rarely had to examine different people on his street to see if they’d kill him because he knew them all. Didn’t have to assess them as threats. Someone new, potentially, could mean that one of the long list of people he had fucked over (all deserved and profitable) was getting their act together for revenge. And Alfie really didn’t want to kill someone, did he, but needs be as need must, because there _was_ someone new, wasn’t there. At his door, no less, sat down like this was for all the world, a normal thing to be doing.

“Who the fuck are you, then?”

She looked up now, and she was vaguely familiar, something about her, her hair was a nice brown even though Alfie preferred it darker, aesthetically, and her eyes were blue, though less crystal than Alfie personally preferred but she was pretty.

She seemed somewhat surprised at his appearance, which, yeah, it was something he was used to, dressing how he wanted, but she had stopped at his doorstep, so he could only assume she should be somewhat aware to who he was.

“Ada Thorne. Who the fuck are you?”

Right. Right, right, right. Yeah, that made sense then.

“Formerly Shelby, then? Yeah, anyone told you you lucked out in terms of family looks? Compared to some of your family, that is, some. No? Either way, look at me holding you up, how long you been waiting here then? Either way. Come in for tea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ada, I love you and I therefore delegate you the task of being there for your absolute disaster of a family. Sorry.


	4. I pour you tea and you question me? in my own house?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ada and Alfie have tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entirely self indulgent. Entirely unnecessary. I could've just not written this. But! I needed something slightly light hearted before I get back to writing, well. Tommy's meltdown. Which he is still having. As this chapter occurs.

She looked wary, and Alfie wanted to feel sorry for her, really, God knows how he’d react to being invited in by some strange man, not that he was strange, he was an exemplary specimen really but made no fucking difference if that’s not how other people saw him. Where was he? Right fucking hell he wanted to feel bad but point is she was the one who had arrived, not like he’d accosted her in the streets, so did the Shelbys just not have a fucking need to survive? Why would she come here if she didn’t know who he was?

“How many sugars?”

“Oh. Just the one, please.”

Well, at least she was polite, God knows it wasn’t a family trait, just that some of her family had nice faces that made up for being a cunt sometimes. 

“Milk?”

“Uh, yes.”

He was suddenly struck, not by lightning (which was unfortunate), but by an image of the old housekeeper he used to have, before she wordlessly shook her head at him when he came home covered in blood and just upped and left. The image, right, was of how she used to hobble around asking his tea preferences because they constantly changed, no man should be stuck in his tea preferences, this was very important to him, but she did go around asking and he now felt like her. Slightly awkward. 

Huh, Ada (felt weird to call her that) had taken his chair, which he was okay with honestly because he didn’t know what he would have done if she’d sat in the same spot that her brother did, what, less than a day ago?

“This is a lovely home.”

“Yeah it is, it is, a man actually died in here,” a man had also been fucked just upstairs, “and-”

“That would be before or after you started living here?” Ada looked slightly shocked at having asked the question and Alfie didn’t know how to react. He barked a laugh.

“Before actually. He died peacefully, as much as death can be peaceful, but folks around here are superstitious, which you wouldn’t expect, s’hard to fantasise or have superstition when you live in London, you’re either on a high you don’t need to fantasise to have or reality is so fucking harsh you can’t even afford to, y’know, think beyond reality. So, you wouldn’t expect it but it is a superstitious lot ‘round here so they didn’t wanna buy a house full of ghosts.”

“Superstition has some truth to it. Sometimes.”

“Oh I know, I know, was actually uh, reading a book of fairytales right there when the ghost materialised before me in all its glory but it took one look at me in all my ferocity and decided enough was enough and left, actually, flying upwards and God thanked me for moralising even those in the afterlife.”

Ada just looked faintly amused, and the two lulled into silence as they sipped tea. Very polite, very quiet. Hah. Wonder how she’d react if he pulled a gun.

“You didn’t give me an answer, you know. Before.” It wasn’t a question.

“Answer to what?” 

She looked infuriated by that and oh, so that would be the family resemblance, then. She didn’t look near murderous though which only went to show that Arthur was unhinged and he was justified in his actions before. He’d have to bring that up sometime. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m hurt that I wasn’t pointed out to you before, sweetie, but if you insist, I am the leader of this here Camden Town, in the one way that matters, my bakery down the road, filling the otherwise smoky streets with the sweet sweet smell of a sugary form of bread, that incites a beautiful violence as well as liberating you from self doubt, innit? Wonderful thing. Anyways, right, bit of a fucking mouthful so to you I am Alfie Solomons, sweetie.”

“The one who betrayed Tommy?” Right. Well. 

“S’all in the past, sweetie, and I’m not gonna apologise, because Tommy is unscathed, ain’t he?” 

She looked at him strangely, like she knew something he didn’t which, fucking rude but-

“Right. Arthur wasn’t. Billy Kitchen certainly isn’t.”

“Of that I have no doubt, but I doubt people were shedding fucking tears, ‘cause both were fucking useless, innit?”

“Right. Would that be the same principle if it was Tommy who got locked up?”

“No, I reckon it wouldn’t be. He is the boss. The captain, or sergeant major more fittingly. I don’t give a fuck about his soldiers.”

“Right.” She’d raised an eyebrow at that. “Your honesty is refreshing Mr Solomons, as well as your conviction about breaking trust-”

“Nah, Tommy knows what I am, and breaking trust is for people you love and expect good behaviour from, innit? I’m far from both the conditions, sweetie.”

“You still betrayed him.”

“S’far as I heard I wouldn’t exactly be the first. Heard there was a woman actually, who got your late husband momentarily locked up.”

“You’re very informed, Mr Solomons. But Tommy got Freddie out. And Grace’s betrayal didn’t work, Kimber is dead. He got to where he is with racing because of that. It’s how he helped you with Sabini.”

“Yeah… Your brother is tied up in all sorts of things now, ain’t he, insistent on going to hell and dragging every good man down with him.”

“There are no good men in this business.” 

“You’d be right about that, sweetie, but I’m sure there are plenty of men who think far too highly of themselves and therefore think they in fact are good men and your brother, well, hates those fucking delusions, don’t he? So he will drag them down.”

“And you don’t think highly of yourself, is that it? Is that why he doesn’t hate you?”

That was an odd thing to fucking say.

“No, actually. Don’t think highly of myself because that would imply I am not actually high and mighty but I am actually exactly as advertised. Sorry, sweetie, why the fuck are you here then?”

“Do you live here alone?”

“Now now, already answered one of your questions now, ain’t I? You owe me. You say there are no good men which I have already said is fair because, well, it is. Are there good women in this business then?”

Question was clear, he hoped, because he needed to know how likely this woman was to shoot him. It’d be inconvenient, the stench would stay in the house for ages if his corpse were left to rot and the neighbours might complain.

“I’m not in the business.”

“You were born a Shelby. You may be a fucking, Thorne was it? Thorn in my fucking side, definitely, but I’m not complaining too much, I’d be difficult too if I had to be raised alongside horses and Arthur but you were still born a Shelby and you are here right now, aren’t you? Says you’re in the fucking business. My question, sweetie, is quite clear and if you aren’t gonna answer it, well. Door is right fucking there.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not going to shoot you and I am here because I want my questions answered. Do you live alone?”

“I do, actually, not that it’s any of your fucking business, though I am planning on getting a dog for intruders because they’re a fucking nuisance, innit?”

She didn’t look offended, which Alfie took as a good sign, but she did go slightly pensive. Fucking hell, he really didn’t want to deal with another Shelby whose mind whirred faster than one of their horses’ run.

“What happened between you and Tommy?”

Alfie, for once, chose silence.

“I only ask because I had to send a car here to pick him up and he’s… I don’t know what you did Mr Solomons, but I haven’t ruled out shooting you, so you better answer my fucking question.”

Fucking hell, what exactly had happened to Tommy?

“He needed a ride to a hotel yesterday. They were all closed so he slept here. Left before I could wake up.”

Well, he’d given her an answer. Both of them knew it was a lie or a half truth really but it couldn’t be helped, because if Tommy were to ever find out that he’d told his sister he’d fucked him, that he said that with actual words, well. God knows what reaction there would be. 

“You know my address?”

“I don’t, but I have a feeling if Tommy were ever to find out I was trying to find his sister’s lodgings he’d beat me with my own cane which isn’t that appealing, certainly not in the fucking context, and-”

“Here.” She handed him a slip of paper. “Just in case you wanted to meet him.”

“Why the fuck would I want to do that?”

“You tell me, Mr Solomons.”


	5. tea is sweet and so is the smell of your perfume but it leaves a bitter taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace returns and then goes away.

“Tommy?”

“Grace. I’m at the house we stayed at before, in London. If you want to discuss… the things we need to discuss.”

“Right. Should I come today then?”

“Yeah. Yeah I should be here most of the day.”

Tommy hung up the phone and a part of him wished he’d said no to Grace because he was so fucking exhausted. He couldn’t shake it off of himself, even if the worst of it had passed. He didn’t know _why_ because his whole life, he’d done many things and been brought to the brink of death fucking, more times than he could count, but somehow, yesterday is what shook him completely. 

He didn’t know why. Didn’t want to ask himself why.

Ada had disappeared, probably to the library she was working at now and, ever the most vibrant Shelby, she’d probably be gone for ages afterwards at some meeting or drinking with friends. That’s what he hoped. He needed to speak to Grace alone.

But she was going to take God knows how fucking long and Tommy needed to catch things up with people in Birmingham, see if everything was settled, fucking see what happened with the licenses but he assumed things had gone well because Ada hadn’t said anything. If something had gone badly, someone would’ve called to get him to fucking fix it. He’d be thinking for them so they wouldn’t have to.

He didn’t want to call there. 

Nothing to occupy his fucking time otherwise, though.

“Hello?”

“Tommy?”

“Arthur, yeah it’s me, nothing got fucked up, right?”

“Yeah, not to worry not to worry, me and John-boy, we found these fucking women, Tommy and you haven’t seen the way they act right, one of ‘em-”

“Arthur? Arthur I don’t have the fucking time, okay, I need you to get Polly and have her speak to me.”

“Tommy where were you yesterday? Where are you calling from?”

“I’m calling from Ada’s and I’ll explain the rest later okay, just hand the fucking phone to Polly, now.”

“Right. Let me just-”

The line had nothing but tinny sounds as Arthur presumably went to find Polly who could hopefully fucking confirm that everything hadn’t all gone to-

“Thomas?”

“Yeah, Polly, it’s me I-”

“Where the fuck have you been?”

“Celebrating, let’s just leave it at that, eh? I’ll explain the rest soon just- Did everything go to plan?”

Polly went silent for a moment.

“Yeah. Everything is fine. And Tommy? That inspector he-”

“Polly, listen, these lines could be compromised, eh? These lines could be fucking compromised so just, shut up, and tell me the rest when I get back to Birmingham.”

“Will you? Be coming back then? Why should you, all your women are off in the fucking country or in London which is where all your business is as well. No need for Birmingham.”

“I don’t have the fucking time for this. Everything I do, right, is for this fucking family-”

“For yourself, you mean-”

“Polly.” His voice came out eerie, quiet. He didn’t recognise it. Polly went quiet too. 

“Polly, listen to me. I will be coming back soon. Most things are handled, the business is good and you guys can fucking celebrate for a few days, as you fucking were, by which time I will be back to clean up the fucking mess.”

“Right. Tommy, just thought you should know that Lizzie’s in a fucking mood-”

“She’s every right to be just. Let her be and I will talk to Lizzie when I get back but like I said, until then, as you were.”

He hung up the phone before she could reply and let his head fall into his hands. So fucking exhausted.

-

Tommy had wanted to fall asleep but it was like everything in his body, all his bones, they fucking ached but his head was for once well fucking rested and it whirred constantly and he couldn’t get it to fucking stop. It had too much to fucking think of. It had been calmed, briefly, but that calm period was now one of the many fucking reasons that it was running ahead of itself but he really didn’t want to fucking think of that so-

A car pulled up near the front of the house.

Heels tapped gently against cobblestones, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Tap.

It was the fucking door.

“Hello Grace.”

It was odd to have her a step below him, looking up. The angle was fucking strange.

“You said we should talk?”

“Yeah.” He stepped aside, holding the door open for her, and as she walked in he realised that she, for all it was casual, looked very put together but he chose to forgo a button up because he didn’t want to wear something of James’. He was stood in nothing but his undershirt and trousers and his neck was exposed. Grace stared at it now, and her eyes went slightly cold.

“I see.”

“See what, Grace?”

She just stared at him.

“Nothing at all.”

The two sat in the same spots as the night that this all started (or resumed, he supposed).

“Did you lie to me then? Do you have someone?”

“I never answered that question so I can’t have lied, Grace. But no, I don’t have someone.”

“You honestly expect me to believe that?”

“Yes, because it is the truth.”

“So what did you bring me here for?”

He cleared his throat. “What I wanted before, was to marry you.” 

“Wanted… before?”

“A lot has happened Grace, since I saw you yesterday not just this,” he gestured at his neck which, he really didn’t want to think about nor the reason it had ended up the way it had. This whole fucking thing was a nightmare it just-

“I do want to marry you.”

But he’d already put himself in someone else’s hands, he knew that, she could see it, and he didn’t know if he could hold someone now after being held. He couldn’t hold her, not in the way she wanted him to and not in the way he wished he could.

“I just need time-”

“Time?”

“Grace just fucking listen to me, yeah, listen to me. It’s not because there’s someone else. It’s because you and I barely fucking know each other.”

“We’ve known each other for years, Tommy.”

“Yeah. And you were with your husband for most of it.” 

She started to look off and he grabbed hold of her hand, holding it in his and he looked at her, really looked at her.

“I’ll admit, that some things in the time since I’ve seen you, they’ve happened, yeah, you can see that, but it isn’t because of that I’m saying this.”

And he meant it because he really didn’t know why what had happened had actually happened and he didn’t want to think about it either.

“You have a husband. We can’t be seen with each other and he should- He knows the truth, right?”

Grace nodded shakily, “He uh, he knows the child isn’t his I just-”

“I know. It’s okay. It’s good he knows. But for now, the two of you cannot get a divorce, eh? I know you’re actually Protestant and you were pretending to be Catholic for my sake which is slightly unnecessary, I’m not so Godly-”

She laughed at that softly. It suited her. He wished she hadn’t gone to New York.

“But irrespective of religion you cannot be divorced, eh? Certainly couldn’t fucking marry me after, I don’t think. You once told me your family are what was it, cavalry? Yeah, they’d frown at that.”

“We could get a separation, me and him, on the grounds of my adultery.” She looked ashamed just using the word.

“That’d be unfair to both of you look just, speak with him, eh? Speak with him. I still have my family to deal with as well, we’ll both just, we’ll work this out. Eventually. I’ll have Polly authorise some support for the baby-”

“Will you be abandoning the baby?”

“No, no of course not. The baby will be a Shelby after all. We just cannot be seen together, not for a long while, not until, this all gets sorted out.”

“You know Mr Shelby, that sounds a lot like goodbye.”

“It is. For the time being. One day, Grace, everything will be alright. If you’re going to leave your husband, it should be for a good man, eh? I need to move my business into the more respectable sectors, eh? But yeah, this is it for now.”

Grace wasn’t happy but it couldn’t be helped. She was rational, smart. One of the things he liked about her. She knew that this was impossible right now. For so many fucking reasons.

“I didn’t even offer you any fucking tea or something, I-”

“It’s alright Tommy, I’m not offended. We know each other,” the sentiment didn’t ring true on a personal level, they might fucking observe each other but he wondered if they knew each other properly, if they understood each other, “I have seen you, and you have seen me. I don’t want anything to drink, either. I should go.”

Tommy wanted to move to get the door for her but everything felt awkward and he could only watch as she moved away from him, towards the door, some expensive perfume wafting in her wake. She was so far away from him now, in everything. The rich girl with the Peaky boy, and they were different even when they first met. He wasn’t in a position to be accepted by her people. Maybe before the war…

The door slammed shut and he collapsed against the back of the sofa. Let himself smoke and forget, briefly. He had no idea when he’d see Grace again. Probably monthly, for the baby, but not if he could help it. After that, who fucking knew.

He wasn’t sure what to do with all this free time though. He’d get back to Birmingham soon and deal with whatever disaster no one would tell him about, because there probably was one. Other than that, there was the night before to think on.

Fuck. That had been a mistake. He still felt bone fucking tired and he hoped Grace hadn’t seen him limp slightly. It wouldn’t happen again thank fucking God, he didn’t need to be feeling like that, but it had happened once. He needed to meet with Alfie to get the contracts sorted. He’d take someone with him. John maybe. He wouldn’t ask too many questions.

A car was approaching. Tommy waited for the sound of it going past.

He wasn’t looking forward to that next meeting. Naturally, Ollie would fucking be there and he didn’t know how likely it was that he’d pull a gun. Or Alfie, for that matter. He didn’t know where they stood anymore, seeing as the last time he’d seen him, neither one of them had been standing.

That same car sound, very close to the house now, whoever it was was driving at a fucking snail’s pace.

He really didn’t want to fucking think of that, of how Alfie had made him feel. He could forget it, easily. It just seemed to be taking a long fucking time.

The car hadn’t moved.

Fuck, he didn’t want to deal with an ambush right fucking now, where was his gun? Was it still upstairs? Good thing Karl wasn’t here, if he got hold of it Ada would have a fit and-

It was Alfie’s fucking car.

No. Absolutely the fuck not. Tommy stilled, and found himself slowly walking towards the door, couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t avoid this, this wasn’t Birmingham or his childhood for him to be running through backyards. 

No, fucking hell, he didn’t want to see Alfie, not in the slightest and he stood before the door like he was waiting for some execution and ignored that as there was the tap, tap, of a cane, he didn’t feel his heart sink like it had when Grace arrived, only some sick sort of anticipation. _Fuck_. 

He’d have to see if he was right not to be worried (and wondered why the fuck he wasn’t).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Remembers Grace and Tommy got together after her husband died* hmm. I'll see.
> 
> Also fucking finally Alfie is back I've been screaming at myself since he didn't wake up in the first chapter.


	6. you're a bad liar and i hate it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* Alfie arrives and it goes from there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.... doubled the word count (almost). I lack all self control. I don't know how coherent this is. Enjoy

“You look fucking exhausted, mate.”

“How the fuck did you find this house?”

Some strange emotion crossed Alfie’s face and Tommy hated that he couldn’t decipher it.

“S’my fucking city.”

The door was shut behind Alfie and the sky was dark with clouds and evening and Alfie was here, in a dim hallway with him and everything felt familiar and he hated it. He wanted the feeling gone.

“You’ve not got a proper shirt on, mate.” No, he didn’t.

And there was fucking silence. 

“Alfie, why the fuck are you here?”

“Did you know I have a ghost infestation in my house? ‘Cause I fucking do, mate, and they told me, didn’t they? That Tommy Shelby was in a bad way so I came here to see what state you’d worked yourself into this time and I gotta say, treacle, I’m not pleased that you look fucking exhausted, but I am glad you haven’t dropped dead.”

“You’re glad, eh?”

“Yeah, yeah, you provided people for me to yell at, Tommy. Now without you, what am I gonna do to find someone to exert my power over?”

There was a double meaning in there somewhere, Tommy could fucking feel it, and if Alfie pointed it out, he’d shoot him. Ada’s walls be fucking damned. His walls, really.

“But you aren’t dead, are you, just tired, which, if I may fucking say, is entirely your own fucking fault, innit? Could’ve stayed asleep.”

Right. That’d be it then. The little flare of anger.

“No, I couldn’t have.”

“Why is that, mate? Sure look like you could’ve used it.”

“Do I look that bad, Alfie?” He was being sarcastic, of course he was being sarcastic, what the fuck else would it be? But Alfie gave one of those wolfish grins. Tommy had seen them before and they’d never ended well.

“I’d reckon you got a fucking century’s worth of sleep, sleeping beauty, if it hadn’t been less than a day since I last saw you. Point is, this isn’t a fucking fairytale, is it, Tommy? You ran off from me. And your pretty eyes are paying the price, framed by dark circles, aren’t they?”

Tommy ignored that last bit. “Couldn’t have hurt you that much Alfie. You didn’t wake up when I left.”

“My mistake, sweetie, don’t be offended. If it flatters you, my heart did actually fucking shatter, into a million little pieces, it was actually quite tragic.” He stepped closer and Tommy willed his feet not to move back. They didn’t, and he was grateful for it, but Alfie might move closer and then he’d be far too close to him again. He needed an ocean between the two of them to not feel nervous at that moment, and he wasn’t going to go out of his way to do something like that just for the sake of getting away from Alfie Solomons. The man didn’t deserve the effort.

“A million? Bit fucking much, Alfie, I didn’t know you liked me that much.” 

“Well you should’ve, sweetie, but yeah, a whole fucking million. Made a mess on my floor. It’ll take some fucking effort to clean up, I reckon it’s embedded into the carpet now, and I really don’t wanna get shot of it, so I’m gonna have to get someone,” Alfie inched closer, “right, on their hands and knees to fucking clean it up.”

Tommy could have sworn it was cold before. It wasn’t anymore though. He felt slightly light-headed.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah it is, it is. Do you know anyone willing to offer those kinds of services, mate?”

“No.” Alfie grinned some fucking more which, fuck him, actually.

“No? Guess I’ll have to find someone myself then.”

“You go do that.”

“I will.”

Neither one of them moved.

“Are you not gonna ask me what tea I’d like?”

“Tea? Did you not want rum?” The implications of that hit him a moment too late. Alfie’s eyes turned dark with amusement.

“I actually don’t drink, sweetie, but if you’re offering something else there, I’m more than happy to say yes.”

He hadn’t been offering, actually, ignoring the rush of blood he felt when Alfie’s voice dropped. 

The phone rang.

Tommy nearly jumped out his skin, though that didn’t show on his face. Alfie saw a raised eyebrow as Tommy moved towards the offending sound.

Tommy was aware of the fact that he was limping slightly and he could feel Alfie’s eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. 

“Hello, Tommy? I don’t think I’m going to be home tonight.” It was Ada.

So, he and Alfie really were alone then. He didn’t know whether to feel more nervous or relieved. 

“We got to drinking and I’m tired and I’m going to stay with one of my friends, yeah? Don’t worry about Karl, he’s acting as practise child rearing for this married couple down a few roads from you. James is, well, he’s at a friend’s Tommy. I don’t think he’ll be back for a few days, actually.”

That’s funny. Tommy was at a friend’s yesterday as well. “Right.”

“Hey. You’ll be alright, yeah?”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“See you then, Tommy.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow Ada.”

He hung up. 

“Tommy, mate, is everything alright? You were fucking limping.”

Tommy turned around slowly to glare at Alfie. 

“Do you wanna sit down, mate?” His voice dripped with fake concern. He made to move to the living room.

“You don’t get to go in there Alfie.”

“Right. This is your sister’s house innit, need her permission or something?”

“S’my house, technically.”

“Mm. That’s right. S’all yours, innit? Everything.”

Fuck, where was this tangent going to lead to?

“Maybe it’s why you’re constantly far away, eh? Too much to fucking worry about I reckon. Too many people relying on you and you, right, owning everything and having to take care of it, yeah? That sound ‘bout right? Tell me, Tommy, do you ever let go?”

They were almost nose to nose now, stood in the middle of the hallway. It felt fucking familiar.

“We have to stop meeting each other halfway like this, Mr Solomons.”

“More than happy to push you to my will, sweetie, I’m not one for compromise.” Fuck.

“I have let go before Alfie.”

“Just the once, then? Or, twice really. Only for me? I am very fucking flattered, Mr Shelby. Would you like to admit your desires now? It’s your own house. Could do it right here and I couldn’t say no.” It was a parody of what Tommy had said to him yesterday. Bastard. 

He was pretty sure he couldn’t force Alfie into anything, either way.

“Mm.” Alfie had gone pensive. “You don’t want that though, do you, mate? Me to say no. For you to tell me what to do. Which does actually work out just fine for me, sweetie. You are very fucking pretty when you beg.”

“Why do you always say that shit, eh?” 

“Because you’re a sweet thing, really, Tommy.”

Alfie had been halfway to fucking him before, but he touched him so gently now and he wondered why, but then Alfie’s hand moved up to his cheek and he wiped something away. It was a tear. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fu-

“Tommy. Look here.”

Tommy didn’t know what he looked like, with fucking tears in his eyes, but it couldn’t have been nice, and he couldn’t take it, really, he didn’t know why his body was fucking reacting like this he-

“Look here, now.”

He looked at him. It somehow felt like a fucking, a fucking Herculean task to look into his eyes.

“There we go, yeah? Not too difficult that. Not like it’s a task that would have taken, I don’t know, fucking Hercules.”

Christ.

Tommy really didn’t like any of this, especially the part where he felt so exposed which was funny because him and Alfie had arguably done a lot worse than this and he had been exposed a lot more just, he hadn’t fucking cried during it. 

He wanted to look away again but Alfie moved his hand to just underneath his chin and cupped it and when Tommy didn’t protest, he gripped it slightly tighter. 

Alfie tilted their heads so he could kiss Tommy’s face, one tear at a time and it felt fucking _awful_ and suddenly the urge arose to just, pull Alfie in. He wasn’t close enough. So he did, and Alfie wrapped his arms around him like it was the easiest thing in the world and it was hard to hate it because it felt nice and he didn’t know why his body was reacting like this it just-

“Shh, okay Tommy?” He was speaking in a near whisper, “Just let yourself be held, sweetie, I promise not to damage you too badly, yeah? This doesn’t have to mean anything okay? It’s just me being selfish and holding you like I should’ve this morning.”

“Fuck off. Stop being nice, eh? I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“And I’m not giving it to you. Like I said, entirely selfish mate.”

Tommy knew he wasn’t crying anymore so he felt slightly more confident in speaking. 

“Yeah? What the fuck do you have to gain from this.”

“Holding you in my arms, obviously.”

“You came over for more than that, Alfie.”

“I came over, right, ‘cause of the ghosts, Tommy, told me to check on you. Funny that the dead should see you clearer than your family, innit? Say I did come over for more though. You are not in any state to offer it.”

“I’m not fucking drunk or anything I don’t, I don’t know why I’m-”

His words were slightly muffled by Alfie’s coat which was slightly fucking embarrassing seeing as Alfie’s arms were wrapped around his waist and it was him pressing his head in. He wasn’t being forced here. It felt nice. He wondered when he’d pull himself away.

“No no, don’t worry, but yesterday that was your first time doing something like that? Yeah? It shook you up a little, s’all. You wanted to get away but I, in my selfishness, have dragged you from the depths of your sister’s,” he glanced towards the windows, “gradually darkening house in order to quite selfishly keep hold of you Mr Shelby, entirely of my own free fucking will, mate.”

He appreciated that Alfie was keeping up that pretence. That they were going to pretend Tommy wasn’t clinging to him. He wondered if Alfie actually wanted to be here. 

“And it is of my own free will.” Fucking hell how did he- “Why would I have come otherwise? ’Cause of your magic or something? Your eyes may have the depth of an ocean but they are not enough to move me, in spite of me being the wandering Jew an’ all, especially not to a man whose cheekbones, and godforsaken cap, actually, could cut me.”

He moved Tommy back at that slightly, and brought his hand up again to stroke his finger along his cheek and then suck in his breath in fake pain. The downsides to this were that now, Tommy had to try not to smile, because Alfie didn’t deserve the compliment, and also, they were face to face again and Tommy wasn’t crying anymore.

“Mmm. Looks like I was fucking wrong.”

Tommy just raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, I think your eyes could move me, actually.” Tommy thought he’d move his hands up to fucking, he didn’t know, stroke the peace near his eyes, just to punctuate what he said, Alfie certainly touched him like it’s what he was owed at every other fucking junction, but he stepped back and just hummed once and let his hands come to a rest on his side. Where the fuck was his cane?

“Alfie.”

“Hm?”

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“Well, mate, you need a rest, innit? So I am gonna go-”

He couldn’t go, he couldn’t fucking go because if he did then this would fucking mean that he’d just come over to fucking hug him like he was a child and Tommy didn’t think he’d be able to come back from that. They were going to have to have a meeting sometime soon. How the fuck would he face him?

“I am gonna go upstairs mate and I am gonna find something, a fucking chair, maybe but I do not want to accidentally sit in your sister’s room-”

“Hers is the only one full of dresses.”

“Well, not full, sweetie, I thought she was against the frivolity, communism innit? But I don’t know what you get up to in your spare time, you might have a fucking dress laying around or something, jewellery maybe,” Alfie’s eyes went far away for a moment and Tommy barely had time to feel disconcerted before he came back, “But regardless I wouldn’t know what her room looks like and I don’t want to go in there because it would feel like impropriety, innit? And I would never go into someone else’s space without their fucking permission.”

He stepped towards Tommy now, and kissed him, softly. They hadn’t managed soft before. But he knew what it was. A way to show he knew he’d have Tommy’s permission. Bastard.

Alfie broke the kiss to smile down at him and there was some condescension there which was good, because it made Tommy feel slightly angry and he clung to the emotion like it was a lifeline.

“Wouldn’t want for you to step into my nephew’s room either.”

“Oh I could never, Tommy.” His eyes went round and immediately, Tommy knew he was mocking him. “I, personally, right, think I shouldn’t be polluting any more Shelbys-”

“Neither of them are Shelbys.”

“Then why would I want to corrupt them? I was gonna say, I shouldn’t pollute any more Shelbys when I’ve already ruined one, haven’t I?”

Tommy smiled at him, “Right, right, that’d be when you got blood on Arthur, eh?”

“Fuuuck off,” he stretched the first syllable far too much, “S’entirely unnecessary to mention him, innit? Entirely fucking unnecessary. ‘Sides, he was already fucking ruined.”

“Am I not?”

“No, no I think for all you may have had a hard life, you are impervious, right, to complete ruin. No one has that amount of power over Tommy Shelby. Frankly, and don’t tell anyone I said this, I think even I couldn’t ruin you. Not forever. But it is fun to try.”

Of all Alfie’s weird, fucked up compliments, this one was somehow the most flattering. Tommy enjoyed it far too fucking much. 

“Who says I’d let you try?”

“You will. You have before.” Alfie took one step, two step and Tommy didn’t know how he managed to tower over him when they were the same height. He fixated on his height so that he didn’t have to think about anything else. 

“Anyways, you gonna invite me in or something? You seem to refuse to go upstairs to sleep. Or should we continue this conversation in the hallway?”

“What if I said yeah, eh? What then?”

“Well, sweetie, I’d consider it but the wall and the floor don’t seem all too comfortable.”

“For what?”

The corner of Alfie’s mouth lifted in amusement. Not a grin but he was getting there.

“For resting, obviously.”

-

Him and Alfie had gravitated towards the living room, Alfie sat across from him in the spot where, he thought with some passing amusement, he’d propositioned Grace. Tommy was sat where Grace had been. He wondered if the same situation was going to occur, except, he’d be in Grace’s position. Fuck.

This whole thing was slightly out of hand, and he reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

Alfie watched him with some annoyance and Tommy really didn’t feel like having to put the cigarette out if Alfie asked. (He wouldn’t listen, either way. He promised that to himself.)

“So, ghosts called you here, did they?”

“Yeah mate, what else? How else would I have found out about your sister’s house, eh? It looks nice, by the way, m’guessing she’s the one what’s picked out all the furniture.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t think I will.” Tommy took a drag from his cigarette and ignored Alfie following the movement.

“Did Ada come round to yours?”

“How the fuck would she have known my address, mate? ‘Course she didn’t.”

“She sent a driver after me. I had to give the address.”

“Right. Well, regardless she didn’t-”

“She saw the marks on my neck. They’re not exactly fucking discrete, are they?”

“I can barely see ‘em, actually.” Jesus, Alfie wasn’t good at lying. Not to him at least. He was good at confusing people, outsmarting them, but outright lies? Fucking incapable of it. It was a wonder he had managed to get to where he was. It made him all the more impressive and made the people around him that much more stupid but Tommy was viciously glad that he had this flaw, that he couldn’t fucking lie.

“She saw them though, I guess that makes her smarter than you, more observant.”

“Yeah, sure, mate. If that helps. Reckon it’s the blue eyes she’s got, like you, innit?”

“Now how the fuck would you know that?”

Alfie just stayed silent for all of one second. “I guessed.”

“Right.”

The inexplicable urge arose to fucking laugh. He couldn’t quite bring himself to, but the urge was there.

“I was right you know.”

“About what?”

“When I guessed that your sister wouldn’t be prettier than you. She is pretty, no fucking doubt about it, just not as pretty as you and not to my taste, really.”

“So she did come ‘round then.”

“Yeah, how the fuck else would I have found you? Don’t be an idiot, mate,” this fucking- “she came round for tea and I have to say, she’s very polite, very civilised, I don’t know how your brother is so unhinged. That whole thing, by the way? His fault. Why would he come to my bakery-”

“Distillery.”

“-when he had never met me before, without proper reinforcement. Stupid of him to do.”

“He trusted that I trusted you.”

“He shouldn’t have. Besides, you didn’t trust me.”

Alfie looked at him like he was expecting an answer when he hadn’t asked any question.

Tommy took another drag of his cigarette.

“No, I didn’t trust you. Still don’t.”

Alfie stayed silent.

“And yet, when I came to your bakery, without reinforcements at all, not even Billy Kitchen or anyone, you didn’t shoot me.”

“I wouldn’t hurt an already injured man, Tommy. That’d be far too easy. Dishonourable too.”

Tommy scoffed at that. “Honour doesn’t mean a fucking thing to you.”

“It means something, mate, ‘course it does.” Tommy looked at him in scrutiny, Alfie certainly seemed genuine.

“Had you turned up mate, to that Passover celebration, I wouldn’t have hurt you. Might not have gone through with the whole thing. Because you, right, are the one I did a deal with. I don’t give a fuck ‘bout your soldiers though.”

Tommy knew this, somehow, he’d asked him the first time they’d had this fucking conversation, but it wasn’t said in so many words, that Alfie wouldn’t hurt Tommy, not really. The two lulled into a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, just stifling, and Tommy regretted lighting the fire but there was nothing to be done, if he tried to blow it out he’d freeze, being only in an undershirt. Alfie was still wearing a coat or, Tommy squinted his eyes, okay, the man was wearing two coats because he couldn’t operate normally for the fucking life of him. He must be boiling. Good.

“What did Ada say to you?”

“Nothing. Just invited her into the living room and made civil conversation mate, about reading.”

“Reading?”

“Yeah, told her about fairytales.”

“Well now I don’t feel special.”

Alfie looked at him questioningly. Finally, he was sick of being the one to always be asking.

“Looks like you take everyone in to talk about weird, cryptic, shit.”

Alfie grinned but then quickly smothered it to pretend to look hurt. “First of all, mate, first of all, it is not weird, nor cryptic, I was telling her about the princesses weren’t I, about how they were modelled after you,” Tommy glared at him, “and secondly, mate, no need to feel jealous. She didn’t get anywhere beyond the living room.”

“Right. Well you’re not getting beyond this room either. I’m not letting you anywhere near her room, or my nephew's, or,” Alfie raised his eyebrow at the last ‘or’, “her roommate’s because if you don’t give a fuck about the people around me-”

“Said I didn’t give a fuck ‘bout your soldiers, mate, I’m not gonna hurt innocent people, though, not if I can help it.”

“Nevertheless, I can’t trust that you won’t fucking, lay a trap or something.”

“Right. Upstairs is off limits, message received mate. I’m still here though, so I guess I am allowed in this living room then?”

“Depends on whether you’d damage me like you refuse to do to innocent people, but like you would do to my soldiers.”

“Like I said, mate, wouldn’t hurt you. I did a deal with you.”

“Is that the only reason you refuse to hurt me?”

“Nah, probably not, but why get into it, eh? I’d only hurt Tommy Shelby if he asked.”

What the fuck was _that_ supposed to mean?

“Come here.”

The room was silent now, except for the crackling of the fire and the thrumming realisation in Tommy’s ears that he was fucked, because he was going to listen to Alfie, because he wanted to. He’d work for it first though.

Tommy just looked at him blankly now, the dark figure whose profile was half lit by the fire and the other half in complete darkness, dwarfing the armchair he was sat in and looking imperious. 

He took another drag of his cigarette, slowly, and maintained eye contact for all it set his heart over the edge to do it. 

“Go where, Alfie?”

His voice stayed steady, thank fucking God.

“Well, originally was gonna pull you in and we’d have fucked on the sofa you’re sat on now, mate, exact same as before, seeing as it seemed to work for you. But now? Now you can come and sit right here,” he slapped the inside of his thighs, “and fucking work for it.”

A beat passed.

“And why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because you want to.”

Alfie didn’t move after that, and Tommy wondered if he’d feel embarrassment if he just scoffed and fucked off upstairs, leaving him aroused and unsatisfied. He could just continue smoking as he went and Alfie, well, he’d have to cope. And that would be the end of all of this.

Then, it wouldn’t be something he’d have to worry about. He could die one day, knowing he’d fucked a man (or been fucked by one) and it had only been once and he never did it again and he never planned on doing it again. They’d just be business partners, nothing more, nothing less.

He put his cigarette out.

-

Alfie hummed but he still stayed still. Tommy moved towards him, standing up from the sofa and standing in front of him. He wanted to sit down, because that’s what Alfie asked, but he also burned at the thought of doing anything for his sake.

Alfie’s hand came up to stroke the inside of Tommy’s thigh, going in circles and Tommy willed him to just use his brute strength and pull him in but it’s like the bastard lived to make his life a misery because he retracted the hand and rested both his arms at the sides of the armchair. It looked the way kings would have when royalty was a powerful force. An oppressive force. (They were still the latter.) 

Tommy hated it, by association, and every instinct screamed at him to run away but then he looked at Alfie’s face. It looked as far from royalty as you could get. Unkempt beard, unkempt hair, no crown in sight. He remembered, not for the first time, that Alfie Solomons could look like a predator when he wanted to. He shivered which was odd, there was still a fire, and braced himself for the humiliation of what he was about to do.

Alfie didn’t look any nearer to losing control, content to just watch him battle himself inside of his own head. Wonderful, the one time he needed Alfie to just fucking talk.

He sat down. He tried to ignore that he could feel Alfie getting hard against him and that, in turn, Alfie could probably feel the same from him. He had nowhere to put his feet except on the arms of the chair, which was the only place for them to go without it being uncomfortable, and he resolutely ignored that like this, he’d spread himself out for Alfie. 

He willed Alfie to say something or to pull him in, so this felt less like a choice, but instead, Tommy clung onto the back of the chair and moved himself forward in the process so he wouldn’t fall and Alfie just remained where he was, looking up at him now at this new angle as Tommy tried not to look flustered at the scrutiny.

“Mm. You’re doing well Tommy. How’s about you take this off then, hm? For me.”

He tugged at the undershirt and Tommy really didn’t feel like it’d be good if this was the third item of clothing that Alfie tore off of him so he took it off at what he hoped was a normal pace, he didn’t want to seem too eager or like he was putting on a fucking show or something.

“Mm. Yeah, that’ll be all for now. Look at you, eh, Tommy? Look at all this. Was this all me or have you been fucking someone else?”

Tommy looked at his chest which he now fucking remembered was covered in purpling marks. 

“It’s only been a fucking day, Alfie, who else could I have fucked?”

“You’re right that it’s only been a day but look at us, only been a fucking day and you’re in my lap again. For all I know, you’ve fucked someone in between the early hours that you left and my arrival.”

“Fuck off.” Tommy didn’t want the reminder that it had only been a day and he was already succumbing. 

“Good thing you didn’t fuck someone else, Tommy. Imagine how fucking jealous they’d be if they saw all these marks.” Alfie had rings on, Tommy realised, because he was still fucking dressed, but he had rings on and Tommy realised because Alfie used one of his hands now to brush his knuckles against the marks on his chest and they felt cool to the touch. Or maybe he was just feverish. 

“Imagine mate, if they got jealous enough to suck their own onto you, to try and replace me, eh?”

Alfie used the arm that wasn’t occupied with his chest to pull him in and Tommy remembered when he’d wanted Alfie to do that. That was fucking stupid of him. 

“Good thing they didn’t, innit? Because that would really fucking upset me, if someone ruined my artwork.”

“You pretentious fucking bastard.” Why did he say that?

“Is that fucking right?” Alfie looked at him with something close to excitement and Tommy regretted opening his fucking mouth.

“Do you know what I would’ve done, hm? If someone had been here since me?”

“What?” He hated himself for asking because it just made Alfie grin.

“Naturally, mate, it wouldn’t be their fault would it? It’d be yours, for running off. That’s not to say I wouldn’t kill them, don’t care about your soldiers, remember that, but it would depend, innit? But you, I could never hurt you. I’d just have to stake a claim.”

“You don’t own me, Mr Solomons.”

“No, certainly don’t, Tommy, ‘cause your mind is your own and you refuse to let it calm down, no matter, I’ll do it for you, but this? All this?” He used both his hands now, gripping his waist like it was genuinely fucking his, and he stroked his thumbs in circles. The movement was gentle which did nothing to help, because Alfie still had a vice-like grip with the rest of his fingers and he could feel the rings digging in. “It’s mine for now.” 

Alfie let them both sit in silence and he looked down at his trousers now like they’d caused him the biggest fucking offence.

“Get these off, Tommy, right fucking now.”

Tommy let himself believe, as he quickly rushed to pull the trousers down, along with everything else (may as well get a head fucking start), discarding them alongside the shirt, that he was doing this against his will and that it was actually some higher fucking power commanding him, not Alfie. He’d never been more desperate to believe in God.

Alfie pulled him in again, this time by the thighs, and Tommy felt dizzy because he had never been small, he had been broader than his women and most of the men around him, his brothers were slender compared to him, but for all his muscle that he’d built up, Alfie was bigger, and he was reminded of this when he grabbed his thighs because like this, it seemed like they reached all the way around. They didn’t, that’d be fucking ridiculous, but Alfie still felt large, and his rings were digging in. 

Tommy was sat on him again, and Alfie used his hands to pull his thighs apart, his feet planted on either side of the chair again. Tommy wasn’t wearing anything, fuck, he wasn’t wearing _anything_ and Alfie was fully clothed and nothing felt worse. 

Alfie wasn’t even smiling anymore, just looking down at him like there was something to see, he didn’t know what, but then Alfie looked at his cock and Tommy really couldn’t deal with that, so he looked up at the ceiling. It was a plain white. Huh. Nothing to really fixate on, he could’ve been sure that there was some more texture and-

Alfie gripped his cock.

“Fuck.” 

“Mm, mate, where the fuck did you go just then, eh?”

“I didn’t go anywhere.”

“No?” Tommy hoped he’d believe him and then tried to find something else to look at, like the cabinet, it seemed new and-

Alfie gripped his face with his other hand and looked at him with something close to anger. Not quite though.

“Got to say mate, you sure look distracted.” He gave a tug to his cock and his other hand tilted Tommy’s head down. He couldn’t move and there was only one place to look now, and the visual was difficult to look away from. Alfie seemed satisfied with that, because he let his face go and Tommy still didn’t look away.

Alfie’s hand sped up slightly and then just stilled. They were frozen in time and Tommy realised the only sound was heavy breathing, his and Alfie’s. He was glad he wasn’t the only one affected because it would’ve fucking stung if he was. 

Suddenly, he could feel Alfie’s hands move towards his arse and he remembered that he was still wearing the fucking rings.

“Alfie, stop.”

Alfie looked at him, eyebrows raised and Tommy just gripped his wrist to bring the hand in front of the both of them. 

“You can’t wear fucking rings during this.”

“Yeah. Yeah alright, makes sense that actually. But, thing is Tommy, it actually doesn’t make any fucking difference to me. So if you want them off, take them fucking off yourself.” 

And, because that wasn’t enough, he brought his hand up to Tommy’s face. He was asking him to fucking take them off with his mouth. And that would’ve been fucking humiliating, and he didn’t want to do that, but he wanted them up him even less so he gave a shuddering exhale and gripped Alfie’s wrist with both his hands. Didn’t trust him not to just stick his fingers in and keep them there, not after last time. 

It was painstaking, he didn’t want to break his teeth, and Alfie didn’t seem like the type to enjoy the fact that he was being methodical about this but he’d have to fucking deal with it, Tommy wasn’t going to suck on his fingers properly, ignoring the fact he’d done it before. 

Alfie took each ring from his mouth to place it on the side-table and he looked more and more smug every time he did it and Tommy could feel himself getting redder. He took his other hand, the one that had just been gripping his cock and he couldn’t believe he was fucking doing this but he started the process again, and he reached the biggest ring on his index, near the crown tattoo and it was the last one thank fucking Christ but Alfie chose now to be a fucker, not that he hadn’t been exactly that before. 

“Aren’t you sweet, hm? Tommy Shelby, sat on my lap as though it were his fucking throne, taking off my rings and holding them in his mouth like they’re sweets. Am I just a servant then, feeding the king? Gotta say mate, with this position, it feels more like you’re my whore.”

Tommy spat the ring in his face.

They both stared at it now, it having fallen down onto Alfie’s lap, and Tommy felt something like dread.

Alfie just picked it up, putting it with the rest, and it clinked very politely alongside them, and it was the only sound for a few moments that felt like an hour, as Alfie looked at him and the two held eye contact.

“I-”

“Fucking hazard-”

Alfie gripped him closer and all of a sudden, Tommy couldn’t speak because they both were just kissing like their lives depended on it. Alfie licked at his lower lip and Tommy took the hint to open his mouth, letting Alfie lick into it. In the midst of it, Tommy started grinding against Alfie and Alfie pulled away, as if just realising that all of this was for the sake of a fuck, not just for them to kiss each other.

Alfie moved to stretch him open and he just hummed as he reached, keeping his hand still and moving a finger in circles around the ring of muscle. His other one pulled Tommy’s thigh out and out of the way, and it spread him wider as his cock got pressed against the fabric of Alfie’s clothes (which he still had on, the bastard), the friction wasn’t nearly enough to feel good but it made him pant, and he couldn’t risk making noise, so he buried his face into Alfie’s shoulder. 

He pushed the tip of his finger in and Tommy still felt sore from yesterday and he wondered how the fuck it’d feel after this. 

“You still feel loose.”

Tommy wanted to disappear.

“Mm, fucking convenient that, Tommy, you should always be worked this loose, eh? Could make a fucking living from it.”

He felt fucking outraged and pulled away from Alfie’s shoulder to yell at him, probably, but then Alfie pushed two fingers in without resistance and pressed them against his prostate which he’d evidently gotten used to finding despite this only being the second time, and Tommy couldn’t fucking deal with it. He tried to breathe through it and remembered, with sudden clarity, what Alfie’s cock looked like and how much it had stretched him out last time. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

May as well get that part over with. 

Tommy reached down to open Alfie’s trousers and by now held no fucking delusions about Alfie actually bothering to take any of his clothes off because the bastard definitely got off on it, feeling like he was in power.

(Being in power.)

“Eager are we, Tommy?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“‘Course sweetie, anything for you, but remember that I said for you to put in the work.”

Tommy didn’t think he could do it, but Alfie was there now and he was hard as a fucking rock and it couldn’t be too bad, right? He’d done it before. 

Tommy lifted himself off of Alfie’s fingers and moved to line himself up with him.

He thought he could just, sink down, but wondered if that would be too fucking ambitious and he didn’t want Alfie to laugh at him because if he did, Tommy couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t try and reach for some gun to shoot him. He didn’t know where his was though and Alfie didn’t feel like he had his, there was nothing at his sides.

He start working his way down, slowly, and it started to burn at one point and he pulled himself up, shakily, and became aware of the heavy breathing he was doing. He looked at Alfie and the man was just staring up at him with something that looked fucking hungry. 

Fuck. Okay. He could do this. Alfie would take charge at some point, he knew it, and wondered why the fuck that would bring him any comfort.

Something was digging into his knee, and he reached into Alfie’s pocket to find oil.

“You fucking bastard.”

“Yeah, well, no one was denying that mate, were they? Would you like me to help you?”

No, no he didn’t, because Alfie was going to do that anyways, eventually, and he wasn’t going to ask for it. 

“No.”

Alfie just looked amused but his expression went serious again as Tommy lifted off of him to oil his cock and then reach his now slick fingers to his arse to try and work himself open slightly. Alfie wordlessly took the oil from him and put it near his rings and watched Tommy in a weird form of reverence, like this was something to be fucking reverent towards. He didn’t think he’d seen anything close to this intensity even in fucking church, and they had been looking towards God. Alfie was looking at him.

Tommy didn’t know how to make it feel good, the angle was awkward, but it didn’t fucking matter because it’d all be fine soon. Soon.

He started working his way down Alfie’s cock again and it still burned but it wasn’t as bad as before and as Alfie bottomed out, he realised he hadn’t worked himself all the way in before. Tommy’s knees felt weak.

“Tommy?”

“I’m fine, I’m fucking fine, just-”

He rolled his hips forwards experimentally and Alfie fucking groaned and the sound went straight to Tommy’s cock. He didn’t know if he could maintain the pace, though, not that he’d set one in the first place. He was reminded how exhausted he felt before and he willed Alfie to take this out of his fucking hands because couldn’t fucking do it-

“Fucking hell, Alfie. You feel, you feel so fucking big.” He felt mortified, hadn’t even realised he was saying the words, but there was nothing else to say now and he just clung to Alfie’s neck and felt everything all at once and it didn’t even feel good, is the thing, because he wasn’t able to reach his prostate from that angle, _fuck_ , it just felt overwhelming.

“Not to worry, mate. I’ve got you now, doesn’t fucking matter.”

Alfie moved forwards and Tommy’s eyes fluttered shut because he felt oversensitive and the movement was enough to feel like too fucking much and nothing at all.

Alfie stood up from the chair and Tommy wondered how the fuck they’d ever be able to sustain this position, Alfie stood with his hands now reaching to pull his cheeks apart, and his mind started to feel fuzzy as he realised he was being held like this, but then Alfie pulled him in tight and laid him down against the rug. 

“Figured we’d make less noise like this, eh? If I put you on the sofa, mate, I’m worried I’d fuck you through it,” Tommy whined at that and Alfie looked ready to eat him alive, “and just break it. We’ll try you riding me some other time, because I think it’d be a wonderful fucking sight but for now, let me do this, eh? Is that alright?”

“Just fucking get _on_ with it.”

“Ask me nicely.”

“Go fuck yourself.” 

“That wasn’t nice.”

It was nice that Alfie could still make him feel murderous, even like this, but the man just grinned at him like he didn’t have a care in the world, despite the fact that he could feel him still hard inside of him, and as he waited for an answer, he pushed Tommy’s legs so that he was bent in half again. The position made all the blood rush away from his head and he couldn’t think clearly, not at all, and that’s what he blamed for his concession.

“Please Alfie, just fucking move.”

Alfie laughed at that, and he sounded slightly breathless. He pulled Tommy in by the hips and loomed over him, and Tommy stopped breathing for a moment, because light was bouncing off Alfie’s face and he looked momentarily breathtaking. Jesus. He was never going to tell him that.

Alfie started pulling his own clothes off and Tommy felt his resolve weaken.

“That wasn’t sweet enough, mate. Go on, I know you can do it.” He sounded so fucking smug and Tommy hated him, he really fucking did but then Alfie’s chest was bare and he knew that if he could just manage to pull him in, he could feel the heat radiate off of him.

“Please, Alfie, fuck me. Please.” Tommy worried that he was going to fucking devolve into more whines if Alfie didn’t do something but mercifully he finally started fucking moving and then the two of them were finally on some sort of equal footing. Some equal ground. But, he thought suddenly, viciously, Alfie didn’t have to fucking ache like him so he sunk his nails into Alfie’s back and heard him hiss in pain. Good. He ran them down his back, leaving welts, and Alfie just fucking groaned before pushing in harder, harder, and Tommy couldn’t fucking focus anymore. 

Alfie’s pace didn’t seem like it was stuttering but Tommy could feel the build up of an orgasm and if he came first he’d lose the upper hand he had from before, from yesterday, but he couldn’t fucking help it anymore and moaned into Alfie’s shoulder and as he came, all the tension left his body and his hand relaxed where they were near Alfie’s back.

Alfie was still hard.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah?” He realised he was still out of breath and he could feel Alfie’s chest expand deflate as he breathed heavily.

“I’m gonna move.” 

Tommy groaned and let his head thud against the floor before bracing himself against Alfie again.

“Just fucking go. Be quick.”

Alfie laughed at that and started thrusting in again and even though it was entirely for his own fucking benefit, he still hit Tommy’s prostate which would’ve felt nice in theory but it bordered on becoming pain when Alfie finally fucking came and Tommy exhaled in relief.

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’d not be too pleased about all this then?”

Tommy started to fucking laugh at that and Alfie pulled out before collapsing next to him.

“He’d probably be jealous.” 

Alfie looked incredulous and Tommy started laughing again.

He quieted down and Alfie reached his hand to stroke his cheek gently. 

“Don’t fucking run away from me again.”

“I won’t but Alfie, Alfie look here. We’ve made a fucking mess.”

Their clothes were strewn all over the place but the main issue was the fact if Tommy stood up, he’d leak oil and cum everywhere.

“Look mate. Here’s what we’ll do. I’m gonna fucking carry you upstairs-”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m carrying you upstairs and you’re gonna need to wash yourself off, yeah? Or I’ll do it for you, if you’re too tired. Actually,” Alfie lifted himself up the floor slightly and ran his hands down Tommy’s torso, “I’m gonna do it either way. You, mate, are gonna fucking listen for once in your life.” 

“Sure. Later though. M’fucking tired.”

“Yeah, come here then.”

Alfie kissed him, softly, and it somehow felt devastating, but he ignored that and wrapped his hands around him and pulled him in, allowing himself to be held. It felt nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I write the morning after? Should I? Yeah, may as well I'm already this deep.


	7. i'll smash a vase over your head before i let you see i like you because i don't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ada comes back, eventually.

Tommy could feel Alfie lift him.

Gathering by the light outside he’d guess it was the early hours of morning. Had he been asleep? 

“Why the fuck do you carry a cane if you can lift people up, eh?”

“Don’t worry about that, sweetie, just be glad I can, ‘cause otherwise your sister would come home and see you lying naked and think I had my wicked fucking way with you.”

“You did.”

Alfie grinned at him then, and Tommy became hyperaware of the fact that like this, he was entirely at Alfie’s mercy. In his arms. 

“Let me fucking go.”

“Tommy, do me a fucking favour and relax and I’ll make you a deal, right, ‘cause if you can’t do that, yeah, if you find yourself incapable of even the smallest fucking things then I’ll let you take a moment to try and move your legs and then tell me you’d like to walk up this fucking flight of stairs all by yourself.”

Tommy glared at him and did actually try and shift himself but he then he felt shooting pains all up his lower back and he gasped, clinging on to Alfie involuntarily to try and chase it away.

“Yeah, s’fucking right. How did that go for you, Mr Shelby? Mm? That feel nice? Would you like me to let you go?”

Tommy didn’t know how to answer that, so he just stayed silent, burying his head in Alfie’s head because he was fucking tired, for once, and also because he didn’t want to have to look at him.

“Mind telling me where the fuck there is a bath? Much as it does delight me, thought of you walking round with my cum inside of you,” Tommy buried his head further, “I do have to insist on you washing up, Tommy, ‘cause God knows your family has no brains between them all and I don’t fucking want them to blow mine out in jealousy as well as anger, mate.”

Tommy just glared at him. 

“Oh don’t worry, Tommy, sweetie, I did say them, didn’t I? Them. You’ve got a mind, not to worry.” So fucking condescending.

“Second door on the right.”

“Thank you, sweetie, much obliged.”

They came to a stop in the bathroom and Tommy realised Alfie was actually going to try and fucking wash him which was fucking ridiculous.

“Alfie. Alfie? Let me fucking go. I can have a bath myself.”

“Yeah yeah, alright, it is a shame you won’t let me take care of you, mate, but I’ll just do it next time.”

Alfie placed him in the tub far too fucking gently, as though he were made of china, as though he were something precious, and let the water run. It wasn’t fucking hot enough, but it was certainly warm. Tommy let himself relax a little and waited for Alfie to fucking leave but he just pulled out a stool and sat there.

Next time. Alfie kept on referring to points of time in the future. He wasn’t going to get times in the future but then again, he’d said that to himself before and then been the one to either ask or to succumb. He didn’t know what to fucking think anymore, partly because he’d never acted like this before and partly because he was too fucked to think. Jesus, what would other people say if they saw him like this?

Alfie ran a finger underneath Tommy’s chin and Tommy found himself wanting to look up. Didn’t want to say no to Alfie.

He leaned in. “If I leave you here, you gonna go off into your own head again? ‘Cause I haven’t even left and your mind is already far fucking gone, mate. Stay in the moment, Tommy.”

“What fucking concern is it of yours if I think, Alfie? Am I not even allowed to do that, eh?”

“Far from it sweetie, just don’t run away in your head, simple as, ‘cause I will have you remember, right, that you were in a bad fucking way just this morning. Your sister didn’t tell me what exactly, but I know it probably had to do with you, being there in body but not in mind. How’s that work then? Can’t be good for you, Tommy. I’m not gonna touch you without your permission,” Alfie still had his finger tilting Tommy’s head up, “but I can’t leave you alone here, ‘cause I don’t know what you’ll do.”

“I’m not a fucking child.” He wanted it to be angrier, more authoritative, but it came out quiet and sounded very close to what he imagined vulnerable was.

“Mm.” Alfie seemed to think for a moment. “Yeah you caught me, mate, I’m actually here, right, to make sure you don’t try and find a gun to shoot me with.” It couldn’t have more obviously been a lie, and Tommy was grateful for it.

“I’m not gonna shoot you, Alfie.”

“What, ever? Don’t rule anything out, sweetie, you’re a better businessman than that. Still can’t trust you though, Tommy, so I am gonna sit right here, yeah? I will turn around to protect your modesty and honour though, I’m not an evil man.”

Tommy scoffed and saw Alfie actually fucking turn around. He couldn’t exactly ask him to turn back though.

He couldn’t actually think beyond this fucking room, like this, because the whole fucking situation was ridiculous.

“Are you not gonna fucking talk?”

“Tommy, mate, is everything alright? You want me to fucking talk now?”

“Shut up. What I want has never fucking stopped you before.”

“On the contrary, mate, I’ve always given you exactly what you want.”

“No you fucking haven’t.”

“Yeah I have.” He stretched out the first syllable and Tommy hated it, mainly because it was part of a pattern and he didn’t want to have to think about Alfie’s patterns, the man was already working on occupying too much of his mind. Because he was worried of how he could betray him, that’s all.

“Given you exactly what you need, too. I’m very fucking generous like that, Tommy.”

Tommy wasn’t sure it’s what he needed, but Alfie had certainly given him something and he was reminded of it as he braced himself against the wall to stand up and turned to let the water run down his back. He groaned at the feeling.

“Fucking hell, don’t make sounds like that sweetie, can’t afford any more excitements when you’ve already riled me up these past few hours, haven’t you?”

“I wasn’t the one doing the riling.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“Right.”

Tommy tried not to smile even though Alfie wasn’t looking at him. He was glad the bastard felt something, it gave him some fucking leverage. He watched Alfie shift his weight on the chair and remembered the amount of fucking times Alfie had called him pretty.

Alfie stayed silent, so he decided to take it as a blessing even though the space felt vaguely empty, and started to try to clean the remnants of the night off him. Ada knew some stuff but she didn’t have to arrive with him smelling like sweat and cum.

“Your sister got a roommate then?”

It sounded odd, coming from Alfie. A normal fucking question.

“Yeah, yeah.” 

He realised that James was with him at the bakery, and wondered if Alfie will have seen him. Fuck. Ada had been vague about timings, was he gonna be back today? He didn’t want to have to give away the bluff.

“Mm. Just curious mate, this roommate wouldn’t happen to be a man, would they?”

Did Alfie know something? “He is a man, yeah.”

“Gotta be careful with men, Tommy, he could hurt her-”

“You could’ve hurt her.”

“No, not in that way mate, like I said, I am a fucking sodomite, innit?”

“Well. So is he.”

“Right, right, thing is mate, I meant he could be a dangerous sort, either way, gotta be more careful-”

“If you meant a different sort of dangerous then you could’ve hurt her too. The fuck’s the difference between you two?”

“Well I wouldn’t know mate, I don’t know him, do I?” There was something in the words, like a double question, like he was being rhetorical but he also fucking… wasn’t. Tommy started scrubbing harder.

“I just meant with me, Tommy, you know me. In all the ways that matter, for now. This man, well, he could be a fucking fascist for all I know. Could be an anarchist that looks like a choir boy.” A beat passed. 

“It’s a common concern Tommy.”

“Yeah.”

“You never know someone’s politics.”

“No, you don’t. Out of curiosity, Alfie, what are yours?”

It was a desperate change of topic, and Alfie clearly fucking noticed, for all Tommy said it calmly, but he played along.

“Politics, mate, like all things created by mankind, right, it’s a fucking game innit? People playing with other people, and not in the nice way. People always pick the politics best for them, Tommy, and I can’t exactly see the best option for me, can you?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah you would. You, like me, are from an oppressed people, Tommy, and the truth is, they all hate us, and they hate everyone innit, hard as it can be to fucking see, and the fact is, that the fascists? Fucking despise my lot and yours too, sweetie, same goes for the whole Tory party. And the people on the left, mate, you heard of Marx?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“Yeah, his isn’t outright but it’s still fucking hatred, for Judaism, innit? Politics is a fucking maze and you either get dead ends or the same fucking destination, mate. It feeds off corruption and it does pervade everything, Tommy. I will watch it blaze its fucking trail because God fucking knows it will with or without anyone’s help. The time will come, mate, to choose a side, and it is futile every which fucking way. I will say, though, that some are more beneficial to me than others and those are the ones I prefer. Now, some people make bangs innit, to enforce their own agenda.”

“That they do.”

“Yeah, like you almost did at my bakery.”

“Like I almost did at your bakery.”

“And like you did with your pub?” 

Tommy turned off the water and the silence it brought was deafening.

“That wasn’t a higher agenda Alfie, just me cashing in insurance.”

“That right?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm.”

Alfie didn’t fucking believe him.

“Tommy, mate, you know something? You’re far too smart for your own fucking good.”

Tommy turned to look at him and Alfie had turned around now and he was honest to God fucking grinning.

He let out a shaky exhale for a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“You’re exhilarating, mate, did you know that?”

Fucking hell, what kind of insane man looked this happy about someone having pretended to have a grenade with them? 

“I despise you, Mr Solomons.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Mr Shelby.”

Jesus, he’d let him fuck him.

“Come on Tommy, which room is yours, I’ll carry you there.”

Tommy was about to make a sound of protest when Alfie flung him over his shoulder.

What the fuck.

“Let me go.”

“You will forgive me, mate, this is just easier for my back, innit? Just point me to the correct room.”

“Let me fucking go.”

“I will, mate, don’t be fucking impatient, but it will be to put you in a bed.”

“I’m already awake, there’s no use going back to sleep.”

“I, for one, am very fucking tired, though, and I will have to insist on you being there,” Alfie tilted his head back to look Tommy in the eyes, “You’ve spoiled me, Tommy, don’t think I can let go of you now that I know how you feel in my arms. Fucking hell,” He suddenly leaned in, “you are gorgeous aren’t you. I didn’t know your hair went curly.”

Tommy prayed he wasn’t turning red and pondered, absently, that he’d probably looked to God when he was with Alfie more than he had ever before in his life. This was probably the time where God was least likely to help him, as well. 

“Alfie, look, put me down, I’m dripping fucking everywhere, you need to fucking clean off as well you’ve got cum on you.”

“And whose fucking fault is that?”

Alfie put Tommy down which he was grateful for because he could finally fucking glare at him, but Alfie just looked at him with the expression of a man trying not to laugh and stepped underneath the shower-head after turning the water on. Tommy wondered if some of the deliriousness from last night had filtered through into the morning because he was watching Alfie’s muscles and he couldn’t fucking think.

“I see you are an evil man, you don’t even have the decency to turn around, do you? What happened to my honour, mate?”

“Like I said, you don’t fucking have any.” Tommy continued to look at him because if he turned around now, it would feel like admitting something, so he let Alfie smirk at him over his shoulder and continued to watch him. Apparently he wasn’t paying enough attention though, because suddenly Alfie was turning off the water and stepping into his space. 

“Know where the towels are, mate? I’d shake off on you but I have a feeling you wouldn’t appreciate it.”

He wouldn’t. But, you never really knew with Alfie. Fuck.

“In the guest room.”

“Which would be?”

“Room left of this one.”

“Thank you sweetie.” 

He could see Alfie considering throwing him over his shoulder again and he promised, if it actually came to that, he’d smash one of the fucking vases over his head. 

Alfie just smiled and it made him look… freer. 

“Yeah, yeah, not to worry, mate, not gonna throw you 'round now, come on.”

-

Tommy didn’t fall asleep, not just yet, just lay his head on Alfie’s chest and felt him breathe, in, out, his chest expanding, collapsing, expanding, collapsing…

-

He woke up to sunlight streaming in through the windows but Alfie had his back to it and it cast shadows over his face.  
Part of his beard glowed gold in the light. He looked so relaxed. You could barely remember who he was, what he did for a living, what Tommy did as well. There was silence, blissful silence, and he couldn’t hear the shovels. He’d almost forgotten what peace felt like.

He heard the door open.

“Tommy?”

Fuck, Ada was here.

“Karl, stop running around, you’ll break something!”

What would happen if Karl saw this? Children parrot every little thing they see and he couldn’t risk him saying something when his uncles came round. Fuck.

“Tommy, whose car is that? It looks familiar.”

Alfie didn’t look any closer to waking up and he suddenly remembered their clothes, were they still downstairs? Fuck.

He groaned, he couldn’t go downstairs like this, and just buried himself deep into the covers.

He could hear Ada coming up the stairs.

“Tommy?”

She opened the door.

“Oh. Hello Tommy. Good morning, Mr Solomons.”

“‘Morning Ms Thorne.”

Tommy forgot himself for a moment when he startled. 

“Since when were you fucking awake?”

“Long enough, sweetie.”

He caught Ada smiling at the exchange.

“Don’t fucking encourage him.”

Ada laughed.

“Do you call everyone sweetie then, Mr Solomons? It’s not just me thank Christ.”

“Yeah, not to worry, though I do have some names for your brother I don’t call anyone else.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Tommy wondered, for a very brief second, if he was going to rattle off ‘King of Birmingham’ and ‘whore’, just for the fun of it, “darling, mainly.” Fucking liar.

“Right.” Ada still sounded like she was going to laugh. “Will the two of you be wanting your clothes then?”

“Oh not to worry sweetie, got some spare from my car right here.”

-

Turns out, Karl didn’t take any notice, just sat there and babbled as Alfie and Ada talked over tea at the kitchen table. Tommy still didn’t know how he had ended up there.

“I was telling Tommy about the fairytales, you know,” He looked up at the mention of his name, “and I was saying, right, how the villains, bit fucking dramatic, innit?”

“I’m sure they’d take it as a compliment coming from you, Alfie.”

Ada raised an eyebrow but Alfie grinned at the contribution, “Nah, mate, I always act in a way completely and utterly proportionate to the fucking crime, don’t I. Always give people what they need.”

Tommy just stared at him and Alfie smiled and took a sip of his tea. Ada just looked between them, far too fucking happy.

Tommy realised, with something that felt like horror, that he had smiled at the comment as well. Fuck.

“Look, Ms Thorne-”

“Call me Ada, please.”

“Ada then, this has been lovely and much as I wish I could stay here and marvel at the looks of your family, I do have to make sure my employees haven’t burnt down my livelihood. I’ll be taking your leave, yeah?”

“Sure, I’ll see you sometime soon.” Alfie stood up to walk to the door and nodded at Tommy as he went and Tommy just watched him blankly.

“Go say goodbye to him, fucking hell, Tommy.” She shoved him slightly and he wondered, really, what he had done to deserve this.

He met Alfie at the door, and the two were out of sight of everyone now, he could hear Ada faintly in the background, playing with Karl or something.

“I’m guessing you’re here because of your sister then.”

Tommy ignored him. “Came to say goodbye Alfie.”

“Yeah, she did send you, she’s too polite to be one of you Shelbys, s’why she had to get married and change her name, innit?”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re still pretty, it makes up for it.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but Alfie leaned down to kiss him and Tommy pretended he didn’t cling to him, slightly.

“I will be seeing you, sweetie.”

He opened the door and looked back, briefly. 

“Darling.” Tommy rolled his eyes and Alfie laughed before stepping down the steps and letting the door close behind him.

“Well, he’s nice.”

He turned to glare at Ada, who had materialised from nowhere, seemingly.

She just smiled and he didn’t know what to say so he stayed silent and moved to walk past her.

“Seriously, Tommy, it was nice to see you smile.”

He just hummed.

“I need to go back to Birmingham today.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.”

He hoped some distance from this fucking city would clear his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Tommy.. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. Have to set a base here for whatever comes next.


End file.
